Chapter 14: Suspicion
Fall passed quickly, and Marian soon had to reevaluate her earlier conclusion about Severus' behavior. She had definitely offended him in some way, or something had happened to turn him against her. She couldn't imagine what it could have been. True, several Order members had treated her coldly after her remarks on the Killing Curse during the last meeting, but Marian sensed that Severus had agreed with her on that issue. Besides, he wasn't the sort of man to write her off because she had a differing opinion. He had already proven that he would drain himself to his last drop of magic and energy to help a friend in need. She wondered what on earth had gotten into him.
She constantly tried to catch his eye at Order meetings, but he seemed to see through her. Marian rarely spoke up anymore, disappointed that so few had been interested in what she'd had to say. The only people that approached her about shortened spells and a more lethal strategy were members that had recently lost family to Death Eater raids and wanted vengeance—the desperate, careless, hot-headed set that Marian preferred to avoid. They were too great a liability, and she didn't want to be responsible for them.
Two meetings passed with Snape masterfully evading her, and it was October before she could get more than a few disdainful words out of him. He always sat closest to the door, and left the moment the meeting adjourned. Even when she ran, he always seemed to be able to Apparate away before she could catch up, apparently deaf to her calls. His absence left a ragged hole in Marian's life. Every meeting she drank in the sight of his spare, familiar figure be-robed in black. She watched him through her lashes, still sensible enough of her surroundings to avoid giving herself away. Merlin, but she longed for him. And one day, she came up with a plan. Marian managed to get Arthur Weasley to detain him for her, and she approached warily while the two talked. Snape noticed and was obviously itching to make his escape, but had too much respect for Arthur to cut him off.
"Hello Arthur, Severus," she murmured.
"Well…if it isn't the bloodthirsty American," came Snape's mocking, caressing voice.
Wrong-footed, Marian peered at him to see whether he might be joking, but his mask was impenetrable. "Severus, may I have a word? Please?" she asked.
"I'm afraid I can't possibly find the time. Please excuse me. Arthur," he said with a nod, and began to turn away.
She stepped in front of him boldly, barring his exit and exclaimed, "Severus! Out with it! What have I done? Obviously something's wrong. Just tell me and I'll make it right."
For a moment a gratified sneer spread across his face and then he drawled coldly, "It's not anything you've done, per se. One day I simply realized that your novelty had worn off. I suppose that you and your ridiculous accent…bore me."
Marian stared at him, dumbfounded. "That is the single most insulting thing anyone has ever said to me. And it's patently not true. I'm not sure what you expect to accomplish by this brush off, but I know you, Severus Snape," she hissed, "and I know very well that you've never been bored for one second in my company. Besides, I happen to know that British men love my accent, so don't go throwing that up in my face."
"Still as arrogant as ever I see. How…predictable," he said silkily, over his shoulder as he made for the door.
"You impossible man!" she called after him in despair.
The next months passed by drearily. Marian threw herself into her work and accomplished a prodigious amount, for St. Mungo's and for her own private project. She had paled, lost weight and neglected her friends—except Ms. Bear, who was her constant companion—even accompanying her to the hospital on occasion in a protective bubble—but she achieved what she had set out to do. The Muggle bugs were finished, and just in time for the Order's Christmas party.
There had only been one other Order meeting since her showdown with Snape, but he proved to be inexorable, and, try as she might, she couldn't even get him to acknowledge her. His words had cut her to the quick, but she was wise and experienced enough to know that he didn't mean them, that something else was the matter. She didn't know why he had chosen to push her away, and was heart-broken over it, but only labored more diligently on his behalf. He had chosen to struggle down his path alone, but if he chose to do it without comfort, at least he wouldn't do it without protection.
It was the twenty-third of December, and the Order's annual Christmas party had finally arrived. She cringed when she remembered the disastrous party last year, which had been postponed until Boxing Day due to the attack on Arthur Weasley. She wondered if Snape would even show up. She suspected that he would, at least for a little while. If Dumbledore had been able to manipulate him with guilt before, he must be a million times more formidable now that he had a terminal condition. And so, for the first time in a long time, Marian took special care about her appearance, donning a dress that fell in blood-red folds, and she wove thin strands of gold into her dark tresses, braiding and artfully winding them into a lovely coiffure that glinted dazzlingly in the light of the fire. She figured that she might as well show Severus Snape what he was missing.
The moment she entered the party, the Weasley twins came bounding up to her and hurled themselves theatrically at her feet, to the general amusement of the onlookers.
"My lady! Please allow me to worship at your delicate, perfectly-shaped feet," exclaimed Fred.
"Thank you, I think….I didn't know you had a fetish," Marian said with amusement.
"I didn't until now," Fred said dramatically.
"I have dozens of fetishes. I even keep a list," proclaimed George, "and all your body parts are on it."
"That's just wrong," Marian laughed.
"But truly," Fred said, as they rose to their feet, their dignity none the worse for their little display, "You look like every Gryffindor's dream in that dress."
"Oh, I had forgotten that red was your house color," she replied.
"Colors. Red and gold. Both of which you are sporting to magnificent effect," he answered gallantly.
"I'll say," echoed George, "The Slytherins never had a mascot that looked like you. I bet every Slytherin male at the party is hating the Sorting Hat right about now."
"The only one here that I know of is Snape, and he does look rather put out," chimed in Fred.
Marian glanced over to an alcove where he stood between Professor McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt, but he didn't appear to be looking at her, although he did have a particularly sour look on his face.
Soon the younger crowd found themselves sitting around in front of the fireplace in the living room, drinking punch and telling stories, trying to forget the menace that lurked outside the walls. After a while, when everyone had gotten less rowdy, Marian looked at George and said playfully, "Would you rather go to a Celestina Warbeck concert and stay for the whole thing or accompany Mundungus to his family reunion?"
"Are you asking me on a date?" he twinkled.
"No, you git!" exclaimed Fred, "I love this game. If it was me, I'd rather go to Mundungus' reunion. It would be a guaranteed interesting time—although the Bubble-head charm might be required."
"I don't know. Chicks dig Celestina Warbeck. I bet you would meet a lot of desperate women wanting your 'cauldron full of hot strong love'," George answered, and laughed so hard he started choking.
Fred patted him comically on the back, which only made things worse, and the game continued. Some of the people (Sirius and the twins) tried to make the game as risqué as possible, but she and Remus and Hermione always managed to bring it back to the family-friendly zone. Throughout the game, Marian kept one eye out for Severus. She saw him pass by occasionally, and knew he was still in the house—not that he would deign to look at her though.
Eventually, Marian's turn came again, and she asked, "If there was a spell that permanently blocked Memory Charms, would you want it cast on you or would you like to keep the option of being Obliviated in case something traumatic happened to you later on?"
"I'd take the spell!" Hermione exclaimed, "I don't care how awful something is, tampering with your brain and trying to erase it is no solution at all."
"How about the rest of you?" asked Marian keenly, "Do you all say the same?"
"Absolutely," answered Remus, "I studied too hard to risk someone destroying all my memories with one well-aimed spell."
The rest of them nodded adamantly, and Marian glanced up and saw Severus watching. She knew he had been listening to their game—the plan he had suggested and that she had implemented. Unbidden, exultation flashed in her eyes and sought an answer in his, but when he took no notice of her, the light slowly faded. But Marian, as she sat in a circle with her friends, wandlessly cast the Anti-Memory Charm spell on each of them, one at a time. Sirius popped his head up and asked the group, "Did any of you feel that? I thought I just got hit by a spell."
"Maybe Ron just farted on you," Fred laughed.
"Or maybe you did," Ron said indignantly.
"What a witty comeback," snorted Fred.
"It's not like the accusation was terribly witty," Remus said with a grin. He was looking more relaxed tonight, and during their game Marian had seen him shoot Tonks several interested glances. She did look pretty spectacular tonight, decked out in a chic Muggle dress of royal purple, which matched her hair.
"Oi! Whose side are you on anyway, Remus?" Fred laughed.
Soon they started talking about various subjects, and Draco Malfoy came up. Harry told them about his suspicions that Malfoy was up to something nefarious at Hogwarts, and while he was talking, Marian surreptitiously took his wand off the table and began playing with it, idly pretending to admire the workmanship. With one hand, she removed one of the listening devices from her pocket, and affixed it underneath the base of the wand. It was already invisible, and with a few clever nonverbal spells, it was no longer detectable to the touch—she had used a variation of the Notice-Me-Not Spell.
Suddenly, she noticed that there was a lull in the conversation, and found that everyone was eying her with bemusement. "If you enjoy handling things when you're bored and want to play with a wand, I'd like to volunteer mine," Fred said with a devious smirk.
Sirius playfully slapped the back of his head. Marian laughed it off, placing Harry's wand back down onto the coffee table and said, "No thanks, Fred. That won't be necessary…although I'm sure yours is just as impressive as Harry's."
"What? Just as impressive? I think mine is a good two inches longer," he exclaimed indignantly, to the appreciation of the other males in the group.
"On that note, boys, I think I'm going to go get some more punch," Marian grinned, and rose to her feet.
One down, one to go. If she could just come up with a way to affix her bug to Dumbledore. The wand was a perfect place, but few older wizards would be so careless as to leave a wand lying around begging to be tampered with. She racked her brains for an alternative, mentally going through the list of Dumbledore's apparel. He always wore different robes and hats and shoes. His wardrobe was a varied as a woman's, so no clothing item would do. It would have to be something he would have on him all the time—like his wand. She was stymied. And then suddenly, he looked over at her and twinkled, and guilt and inspiration hit her at the same time. His spectacles! Of course. Much easier to access than a wand and much less suspicious. Marian had left the receivers at home, which she would place into her ears later and, if all went according to plan, she would keep them in at all times and be able to listen to every conversation either man had. Marian only had two ears, or perhaps she would have been tempted to bug even more members. But having different conversations taking place in each ear, plus the ones she would be having herself would prove overwhelming enough.
She understood that this was disloyal of her, and that most would see it as treachery against the Order and against her friends, but she had vowed to herself to protect Severus. As a spy, he was kept on a need-to-know basis, and Dumbledore decided exactly what he should hear, but things were happening now that Severus might need to know about later, when Dumbledore would be dead, and Severus would probably be an outcast in the Order, if not completely driven out.
So she squared her shoulders, put on her most charming smile and paced through the doorway to where Dumbledore was standing beside Molly and Arthur and a very irritable-looking Severus. "Good evening, everybody," she said smilingly.
"You look wonderful tonight, my dear. Gryffindor colors, you know," Arthur grinned.
"Your sons made me aware of that fact when I arrived tonight. Apparently, Gryffindors dominate the Order," she remarked.
Snape shot her a dark glance at this, but said nothing in rebuttal. "Perhaps we're more numerous, but some of our most valuable members are from the other three Houses…or no House at all," Dumbledore said, with a glance at Severus, who was currently scowling into the distance.
Fingering the tiny electronic device in her pocket, and casting a few wandless spells, Marian grasped the invisible bug between two fingers and reached up towards Dumbledore, pressing it into the cord that kept hold of his spectacles. She murmured, "You had a spider, right there in your beard, but I got it out….Sirius has cleaned out most of the Dark Magic in this house, but has neglected the more innocuous cleaning—especially now that he's able to get out and about."
Severus was giving her a shrewd, calculating look that she didn't like, but the others seemed to think she was behaving quite naturally. "Oh, thank you. My beard attracts all manner of creatures. They seem to think it a perfect place to set up permanent residence. I once woke up to find three generations of Cornish pixies nestled in my beard. I had a frightful time convincing them of an alternative…."
"Where did you send them—over to Hagrid's?" asked Molly jovially.
"No-I merely told them that I wouldn't interfere if they wished to live in my beard, but was luckily able to convince them that the course they were on would never lead them to happiness and stability, and that they would do better to find something less mercurial in temperament." He looked directly at Marian as he said this, and she felt slightly unnerved, sensing a hidden message.
Then he continued in a pleasant tone, "I insisted that I would not cease cleaning and combing my beard simply because they chose to set up house there, and that they would often be experiencing floods and hot, high winds caused by something the Muggles call a 'blow-dryer'. That had them packing in a hurry, and I'm not sure where they ended up after that, although I could have sworn I recognized the head of the family peeking out at me the last time I visited the Hog's Head. A fellow there had a magnificent beard, although I have to say that it was not as clean as my own, and much wilder."
Arthur Weasley threw back his head and laughed, and Molly turned the conversation to desserts, when Marian poured herself a glass of punch and said that she had to be getting back to the living room before the children got out of hand. After she left the room, it was only a moment before she found herself gripped forcefully by the upper arm and marched into a secluded hallway, splashing punch on the floor as she stumbled along. The person holding her suddenly spun her around and backed her into the wall, and a shocked Marian found herself looking into the keen, suspicious eyes of Severus Snape.
"Severus, what do you think you're doing? You can't manhandle me like this! I just spilled punch the entire length of the hallway!" she exclaimed in frustration.
Ignoring her diatribe and eyeing her speculatively, Snape murmured softly, "I know that you are up to something, and I intend to find out exactly…what…you've been doing."
He was still gripping her shoulders and punctuated his words by giving her three slight shakes. She had missed him so much, and to have him so close to her, even though he was treating her like a recalcitrant student, she still didn't react the way she would have had anyone else dared to deal with her this way. She felt an affinity for him, and, as everyone knows, when a woman is drawn to a man, he can do no wrong, and when she isn't, he can do no right. "You're right," she said quietly, giving him an intense, honest gaze, "I am up to something. But I can't tell you what it is. Not yet. But perhaps someday…."
"I'm afraid someday isn't good enough," he replied savagely.
"Well, you have a choice. Someday or never. It's completely up to you," she answered defiantly.
"I think you've failed to take something into consideration," he snarled, "I can get the information that you're withholding, and get it I shall, but I'd prefer not to have to do it the hard way."
"You told me you'd never use Legilimency on me unless it was a matter of life and death!" Marian accused.
"For all I know, it is. I'm perfectly aware that there was no spider in Dumbledore's beard. There is no telling what you're up to….I might have given you the benefit of the doubt before, but things are different between us now," he growled.
"You can say that again!" Marian exclaimed furiously, "I know good and well that I haven't done anything wrong, and yet you've treated me like the dirt under your shoes for the past six months. Suddenly your interest in my doings is rekindled. Well that's too bad, Severus Snape-you're not going to get any answers out of this voice of mine that you loathe so much!"
His stare was dangerous, a curtain of lank hair falling across his face as he shook her slightly and he retorted roughly, "Don't pretend to be so hurt. We both know that you couldn't care less what I think. And I'm not the least bit interested in you or your 'doings'; I only care about any half-cocked plans you may have come up with that will put the Order at risk."
"Ha! That's rich, coming from the man that recently gave me great quantities of Polyjuice without knowing what they were for, but who trusted me enough to use them wisely and well….Severus, what's happened to us? What have I done?" she asked, her voice almost breaking at the end.
For a moment, a look of agony seemed to cross his face, but before she could even be sure of what she'd seen, it had been replaced by his customary calm, invulnerable expression. Without further ado, he whispered, "Legilimens."
Marian had always wondered what it felt like, to have one's mind invaded. With Severus, it felt like a dance—no, a sword fight, with a very clever opponent. She could feel him searching, and she deflected him with innocuous memories, things that would slow him down, that he would be forced to examine, but that had no bearing on what he was actually looking for. It turned out that Marian was a natural when it came to putting into practice the Occlumency she had studied in books. She didn't know how long they were at it—him thrusting, her parrying, but eventually, he pulled out of her mind and stared down at her, still grasping her upper arms, and both of them panting with the exertion. His gaze was intense, a curious mixture of infuriation and…admiration.
She returned his stare, and in the back of her mind knew she should be angry—should be furious, but couldn't help appreciating his skill and appreciating…him. Having him so near after such a long time, and looking at her like that, her eyes grew large and dark and her parted lips issued an involuntary invitation. She craved him, needed him. The air between them pulsed with tension, their eyes locked—each on the brink of being swept away by a desperate passion, and suddenly he jerked his hands off her shoulders as if they burned him, and spun away from her with a swirl of his heavy black cloak, disappearing around the corner a moment later.
Several minutes passed before Marian regained enough self-possession to rejoin the party. She leaned against the wall feeling bereft, but also victorious. If an accomplished Legilimens couldn't break down her barriers, they must be formidable indeed. And she was also left with the impression that perhaps Severus wasn't as immune to her as he wanted her to believe—Merlin, the way he'd been looking at her!